


you give me a good reason to be heartsick again (let me down easy)

by christchex, Lambourn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Friendship, M/M, Michael and Alex are friends and act like it, Minor Forrest Long/Alex Manes, Pining, Relationship Issues, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, but it ends with malex, mentioned relationships, this is primarily about them talking to each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christchex/pseuds/christchex, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lambourn/pseuds/Lambourn
Summary: Sunday was Alex's favorite day. The rest of the week belonged to the Air Force (for the next two years), to music (for open mic nights), to his boyfriend (for now), but Sunday belonged only to Alex. And to Michael.
Relationships: Michael Guerin & Alex Manes, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 64
Kudos: 188





	you give me a good reason to be heartsick again (let me down easy)

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway, if you like Forrest I wouldn't suggest reading this. I find him to be a waste of narrative space and ultimately a boring character because they took away his interesting & relevant plot. I feel no shame about my feelings. -christchex
> 
> I was teased by Vlamis at the beginning of season 2, that we would see Michael and Alex talk about their relative relationships with each other and be supportive friends (while pining). That idea gave me feelings. Canon disappointed me greatly. Christchex was kind enough to let me indulge my feelings about that. - Lambourn
> 
> L’s notes are so much nicer than mine, so I’m back to say that she’s wonderful for coming in to save this fic from being half written and left in my WIP folder for a year 💖 -Chex

“--- so I said, ‘take it up with management’, and then Sanders pipes up with ‘I’m management, it’s now double, cash or credit’.”

Alex laughed as Michael finished his most recent story that involved Sanders, an unfortunate customer with a Trump sticker on his car, and the extra money that was charged as a ‘douchebag tax’. Alex always enjoyed Michael’s Sanders stories, which were always recounted with expansive hand motions and laughter on both sides. This victory found from the grim past of 1947, small as it was, meant that Michael had finally found someone who cared about him in a way that Michael, and Sanders from the sound of it, could actually accept. 

Seeing Michael’s broad shoulders shake with joy and not grief, that was Alex’s private victory as he smiled and accepted the top off of lemonade that Michael offered. 

It was late afternoon, the remains of their lunch sprawled on the tables behind them, while they sat in their customary spots around Michael’s fire pit. There was no fire, not yet, but Alex knew from experience that their lunch would turn into dinner would turn into drinks as the sun set and Michael lit the fire to chase away the dark. Neither of them had plans for the day, nothing beyond spending time together and catching up.

It had become tradition, at some point, for them to just spend Sunday afternoon together. Alex’s duties in the Air Force had only grown since he reenlisted and Michael had started his correspondence degree from UNM. They didn’t have much time for each other during the week. Adding in the date nights for Alex and Forrest with Michael making sure he spends at least one evening a week with each of his friends outside of The Pony, because Maria deserved to have an evening off not spent at her business, time was a limited commodity. That left them with Sunday afternoons. Neither commented on how they spent more time together each week than with anyone else, and neither did their friends really. It was just an accepted fact: they were important to each other no matter their relationship status.

Michael moved to light the fire, matches flew in the air as he kept his eyes on Alex. “All right, I showed you mine, it’s your turn. How’s life with Mr. Long?”

It was probably an obvious tell, but Alex brought his glass to his lips to drink instead. 

Michael’s eyes sparkled in amusement, recognizing that move in a flash. “Oh shit, that bad?”

Alex couldn’t contain his groan. “It’s not  _ bad _ ,” Alex started. Michael raised his eyebrow in disbelief. Sometimes it sucked, just how well they knew each other. 

“You’re off to a great start. Avoidance and downplaying it, so come on, wow me some more.”

“I think we’re still in the awkward part of getting to know one another’s likes. Sometimes it takes time to learn the ends and outs of someone.” And sometimes it didn’t. Sometimes it took only a touch and a look to be completely known. But not everyone was Michael and it was unfair to expect them to be. Unfair to Forrest.

“Haven’t you two been dating for weeks now?” Michael took a sip of his lemonade to hide his laugh. He didn’t fool Alex in the slightest. “I know you Alex, there’s no way you two aren’t having sex. There’s no way you didn’t have his number after the first time.”

“Oh, I did…” Alex trailed off. He sighed and let his head fall back until he was staring at the endless blue sky slowly darkening. “It’s just…” He trailed off again and tried to not look over at Michael. 

“What? Is he awful in bed or something?” Michael laughed again, unaware of how right he was.

“Maybe it’s not him, maybe it’s me, ever think of that?” Alex shot back, nettled a bit by Michael’s guess. 

“Oh, I know it’s definitely not you.” Michael’s voice wasn’t salacious. He didn’t say it with a sneer. He said it as if it was just a fact, another thing they knew about each other and had nothing to do with their long history together.

The calm assessment of trust both warmed and unraveled Alex, but that was Michael. Repairing what he wrecked from one moment to the next. “I appreciate the vote of confidence. I wish I had it.”

“Come on Alex,” Michael said again. Alex chanced a glance. Michael was staring at him. Sometimes it sucked that Michael never looked away. “What’s going on? That’s not a good reaction to someone asking after a relationship.” Michael’s eyes were concerned. He wore the little frown between his eyebrows. The sad cowboy look really did work on Alex too well. 

“You sure you want to know?” This was new territory they were still working their way through, barely trodden upon with Maria before their break up. But being friends and talking about relationships should be safe ground to cover.

“Yes,” Michael replied as steady as ever.

Alex placed his glass next to him so that his hands could be free to cover his face. There was no way he’d be able to say this is he was actually watching Michael’s reaction. He pressed down on his eyes with a groan.

“Fine! Fine! He’s bad at sex!” He let his hands fall from his face, so he could see Michael again.

“Bad?” Michael pulled his eyebrows together, still holding his glass suspended in midair to his own mouth. “Bad how? Like-” Michael swallowed, the confusion melting into something protective. “Bad in how he treats-”

“-No!” Alex cut off before Michael could finish his sentence. He sat forward in his chair so that he could turn towards Michael. “No, not like that. More like,” he stopped, trying to figure out the words to explain exactly what he meant.

Gently Michael offered, “is it your leg? Is he being weird about it?”

“Please, if anything he’s overly accommodating. ‘Is this ok?’ ‘Are you fine with me touching you?’ ‘We can move if you want.’ It’s like he’s trying to make up for the time he shot me in the leg.” Alex rolled his eyes.

“He shot you in the leg?” Michael was on the edge of his seat at that and dropping his eyes to examine the leg in question. “What the fuck?”

“We went paintballing on our first date. Can you believe he researched me, knew about my service yet somehow didn’t know I lost a leg?” Alex shook his head at that. “Makes me question how good of a researcher he really is if he overlooked that.” 

“Yeah, but then people are weird about stuff. You would think that people would notice my hand, right?” Michael fluttered his bare hand pointedly, the bandanna wrap having disappeared sometime after the shed’s final destruction. “But they don’t, any hint of somethin’ different, it makes people uncomfortable, so they stopped looking a long time ago. Maybe he did know but pretended he didn’t?”

“Maybe. His reaction to that didn’t- I mean it was okay, just awkward.” Alex picked up his lemonade to take a sip, needing a bit of distance before he confessed the worst part of that uncomfortable afternoon. Running around holding a fake weapon, even in place with childhood associations, didn’t bother Alex as much as the last bit. “Do you know he called me a hero?”

“You’re shitting me.” Michael’s concerned face turned incredulous. “Just out of the blue?”

“I guess the parade and my Purple Heart brings all the boys to the yard.” Alex shrugged, uneasy as always when he thought about what he had done overseas. Following orders, striving to promote the greater good, and surviving to come home, too often those decisions came in direct conflict with one another, especially on foreign soil. “He thinks it’s sexy, I guess.”

Michael hesitated for a second, before he asked softly, “Is that one of the things that makes him bad in bed?” Damn Michael for knowing him so well. Damn him for being so soft and light-handed about it. Damn him for knowing it wasn’t just  _ one thing _ .

“Maybe.” Alex allowed, before taking a deep breath. “Probably. It’s hard to feel sexy remembering what happened over there. The people that died. But um, it’s not just that. He — I — dammit. I shouldn’t be so critical, but I sometimes wonder if he even sees me?”

Michael kept his eyes on Alex as he spoke. He moved his chair so that he could be closer, so that he could rest a hand on Alex’s shoulder. He gently rubbed his arm until Alex relaxed in his chair.

“It feels like I’m more this idea to him, and that idea is not who I am at all. He just makes assumptions about me, sometimes.” Alex shuddered and leaned a little into Michael’s hand on his shoulder. “Like, because he and I had different ideas of what ‘out’ meant, it means that I am some closeted-” He stopped himself short, Michael didn’t need to hear that, he already knew from experience what Alex was. Changing subjects, he continued, “sometimes he treats PDA like the end-all, be-all of a relationship. For the most part I don’t mind it. But sorry that my idea of a good night isn’t making out in public to piss off bigots.” Alex looked over at Michael, letting him see the annoyance and irritation on his face. “He thinks that’s sexy too.”

Michael rolled his eyes with his whole body in answer. Alex was a little concerned that he’d pull his back with the action. “Fuck, did he say that to you too?” Alex just nodded. “Well, good for him that he had a better coming out than we did.”

“He doesn’t know.”

“He does know how this world treats queer people,” Michael stated firmly. “No one names their horses after Fox News contributors by accident. That’s kinda fucked up, okay?” Michael hadn’t stopped looking at him the whole conversation, for all that Alex had tried to hide from his gaze. “And that’s not the only thing, is it?”

Alex shook his head in admission. He closed his eyes again and took a deep breath.

“I ask him if we could change things up when we have sex, and he suggests things that I’m not into.” A warm blush heated his ears, but he forced himself to keep going. “And sure, we don’t have to share every kink, but if I ask if I can fuck you and your response is to ask if I think I’m ready? Or, I ask if he could be a little more physical and his response is to try and feel me up in public? It’s like, there’s some sort of disconnect there and I don’t know how to overcome it. I’ve got to be doing something wrong here.”

Michael never lost his confused expression as Alex spoke. “What do you mean, he asked if you think you’re ready? What, does he think you haven’t had sex before?” Alex just gave him a look out of the corner of his eye. “You’re fucking with me. He knows we have a history! He really thinks you’ve never had sex before!” Alex rolled his eyes and gave a tiny shrug at Michael’s reaction. “Were you doing that thing where you say something vague that people don’t understand but you think is crystal clear?”

‘That thing’, Alex glared but the heat of his gaze left Michael unmoved. It was possible in the past that perhaps he had relied too heavily on thin context to make himself understood, but that wasn’t vagueness. It was a well-sculpted strategy that well, okay, never served Alex well and left him in the position that perhaps Michael had a point about being unclear. 

“Okay, I was vague at first.” He admitted grudgingly, “But I think that’s where he misinterpreted ‘physical’,” Alex continued, plaintively, “But how can you misinterpret ‘pull my hair’, ‘fuck me harder’, and ‘can you throw me around a bit’? Do you thinnk I was being vague?”

“No, that’s, um, pretty clear,” Michael’s face looked warm, from the firelight or the subject matter was unclear. He half-laughed and half-choked at the explicit instructions and dropped his hand from Alex’s shoulder to rub at his face. “Christ, what did he say to that?”

“He said that he wanted to take everything slow. He wanted to ‘make sure I was okay with everything before we moved on’. Moved on to what? Sex that wasn’t incredible boring? I’m this big damn hero right, but somehow I don’t know how to ask for what I want? Like pick one.” Alex caught himself after he finished. He closed his eyes and tried to backtrack. “That was petty, I know. It’s not his fault that we’re having sex issues.” 

Alex looked over at Michael only to see him laughing, silent full-body laughing. “No, it seems like this time, the issues are on him,” Michael said when he got himself under control. 

“This is normal, right? Trying to get on the same page?”

“I mean, I guess? But usually your partner is reading from the same book. This sounds like you’re in the adult section and Forrest is back at the reference desk.”

It was Alex’s turn to roll his eyes, “a library pun? Really?”

“If you don’t like that one, how about a musical one? You’re playing your instrument, expecting him to  _ come in _ with the vocals,” Michael paused to waggle his eyebrows meaningfully, “and while you’re strumming your  _ guitar _ , Forrest is standing there like a tool ready to perform his spoken word poetry. You’ve sent the right signals, Alex, he’s just not getting it and that’s on him.”

“It’s just so frustrating,” Alex admitted, quiet and defeated. “Isn’t it supposed to be easier? Having a normal relationship and doing all the things normal people do? There’s got to be something wrong with me that I can’t get this right no matter how hard I try.”

Michael dipped his head down, the evening shadows hiding his expression for a long moment. The empty lemonade glass shimmed in the light from the tall lick of flames reflecting from the fire pit. Finally, as Alex was about to say something to break the quiet, Micheal lifted his chin, his eyes pained, “That’s twice you’ve put yourself down now talking about him. There’s nothing wrong with you, okay? Maybe my opinion counts for shit, being an alien and all, but I’ve always considered you the best part of this stupid planet.” 

For a moment, Alex wished that the subject had stayed light between them, where they were just two guys complaining about life and people, trading sex horror stories. Those hard-fought lines of friendship that they had carved out for themselves from the heap of rubble left were so valuable to Alex. The fact that they could still find comfort in one another after a malevolent government conspiracy, after the grief for lost parents and lost opportunities for a parent, after Michael had stopped their pattern of harm, was a miracle.

Except Michael had never known a limit that he didn’t want to test, and it wasn’t like Alex was much better at restraining himself from leaning into Michael. He had no immunity to those golden-dark eyes or Michael’s rock-certain declarations.

Cut to the quick, Alex couldn’t hold in his tears. He had years of experience hiding himself away, but Michael always saw through his bullshit with clear eyes. He hadn’t cried for a while, not since Caulfield and the danger of losing Michael forever. He didn’t cry when he was abducted. He didn’t cry when Michael turned him down the last time. But this, this honesty from someone who he had hurt and been hurt by, this broke him. 

“I always thought that you were the best thing about this planet too.” Alex could barely get the words through his tears. 

“See? That right there is what I’m talkin’ about, I’m tryin’ to reassure you and you’re just being kind to me instead.” Michael smiled gently, before daring to reach for Alex’s curled fist with his hand. “Whatever doubts you have right now, about you, about being normal, I- god, it kills me to think I might have had any part of it. Keeping secrets messed us up for a while, and then my grief did the rest, but you, Alex, you were still trying for both of us. So as an expert in letting you down, I can tell you, this whole twisted feeling you have right now? That’s on Forrest, it’s not on you.”

“It wasn't all on you, Michael, you know that. I did plenty of harm, which is why I wish I could believe you, because I know what I’m capable of, and um, what I’m not.”

“Then take me out of it, take our past away, and think about the present logically, okay?” Michael urged, curling his fingers through Alex’s. “You’ve talked about how you don’t think he sees you as you, you’ve talked about how you don’t think he understands what you want in bed, so now I’ve got to ask, what does he do for you then?”

Alex didn’t answer, he couldn’t answer. He was too choked up, head too full with everything he and Forrest had been through, had done together, in the last few weeks. He couldn’t think of a single example. Nothing besides the open mic night, and that hadn’t been Forrest. That had been Alex finally gaining the nerve to go after something he wanted. 

“Alex, why are you dating him?” Michael asked with a sigh after Alex’s silence stretched on well past the minute mark. “If you have all of these issues with him, then why are you dating him?”

Alex floundered to find a reason that he could say out loud that Michael would accept.  _ You aren’t ready _ really wouldn’t go over well, and would hardly encourage their friendship to continue. These Sunday talks with Michael had become so important, so vital to who he was now. He couldn’t risk ruining it, pushing for something Michael had already said in the past he didn’t want from Alex.

“He’s nice,” Alex settled on lamely. And settling was definitely the right term for it. “He listens when I talk, most of the time. He likes me…” Alex trailed off, aware of how weak a justification this was.

“None of that is sounding like a good enough reason to date someone you don’t really like Alex.”

“Who says that I don’t like him?” Alex shot back momentarily frustrated. Michael just spread out his arms, as if that could encompass the entire conversation they just had. “And what’s the alternative? My options are limited in Roswell.”

“So just because he’s gay and lives in Roswell, you’re just going to date a guy who can’t get you off and thinks you’re GI Joe Real American Hero?”

Alex pulled his hand away, and rubbed at his temples. “I don’t know, maybe, I just figured that I needed more time. Not every relationship can start from an instant cosmic connection.” Michael looked sad at that, but Alex understood that. He couldn’t help but feel the pain of not having that anymore. He had done his part in ruining it, and on his good days, he remembered he hadn’t been alone in dealing out the hurt.

“Do you think six weeks might be long enough?” Michael was delicate when he asked, the same way he had been during the whole conversation.

“Long enough for what?”

“Long enough to know that maybe more time isn’t the answer to what’s going on with Forrest.” 

The answer, like Alex even knew what that was. He licked his lips, looking at Michael before turning to face the fire directly. He felt transparent, like he always did with Michael, that his expression was surely giving him away. “Then what is the answer, Michael? If it’s not more time, or me just trying harder?” 

The thickness of emotion in his voice probably gave away just how much he wanted Michael to say what was obvious. To pronounce the cause of death on this attempt at moving on from them. Perhaps it was cowardly, to push Michael to do this, but there was still a small corner of his heart, formed from the boy he was watching his mother leave him, that needed to hear Michael say it. Say the words that had been jostling for prime position underneath their friendship talks. 

Michael’s sad cowboy eyes were back, “Not more of the same, especially when it seems like you aren’t really happy.” 

“Happy. I’m still working on believing that I’m allowed to be happy, and that’s not Forrest’s fault.”

“No, it’s your dad’s. And he’s dead.” 

Pulling no punches as usual, but Alex had to appreciate the honesty from Michael. He had used his kid gloves approaching Alex’s struggles with Forrest, but he didn’t tiptoe around the subject of Jesse Manes the way everyone else did. Including his boyfriend. Forrest had wanted to treat Jesse the same way he treated his uncle and nephew, as people who shared different values on subjects like immigration and gay rights but with benevolent patronization of “they were just misguided.”

It’s not that he hadn’t tried to explain who his dad was to Forrest, especially in the immediate aftermath of a public military honor guard funeral and the plans for a commissioned statue. The bare bones of explaining about his dad’s voice, that had held him hostage for so many years, hadn’t saved their first date from ending in disaster. Instead, it resulted in a parting remark about pissing off the homophobes being the fun part of being out and an unspoken pressure for Alex to embrace the same sentiment if he wanted to date Forrest. 

Alex sighed, feeling the now-familiar weight of guilt knowing that Michael understood him in ways that his boyfriend didn’t. 

“Has he been supportive about that at least?” Michael asked, his sharp eyes not missing Alex’s reaction. “About your dad being dead, I mean.”

“I guess? He knows my dad didn’t really approve of me and that when he died, we were at odds.”

Michael snorted, “talk about an understatement, but I guess that’s all you can really say without telling him the whole story.” 

“Which I would never do,” Alex stated firmly. 

“I know. I’m not worried about you telling alien tales to him.”

“He just thinks my dad was more like his family. Bigoted assholes, sure, but relatively harmless.” Alex shook his head to try and clear out the idea that bigots anywhere were harmless. “I tried to explain it to him, especially around the funeral. Did you know he wanted to go with me? And not because he knew it would be hard for me to pretend I cared. Or wanted to be there. He thought I’d need support for my grief.” Alex took a deep breath before he continued, “and I know it’s just because he cares, but did he ever listen to me when I told him about my dad?” He didn’t have to mention to Michael what he was like after the funeral. Michael has been there, waiting at his house with a beer and a hug. 

Alex could see Michael biting back a retort. He could see the comment about Forrest listening to him, most of the time. Alex was impressed. There was a time when Michael would throw anything and everything back at him. To be fair, Alex would do the exact same thing to Michael. 

“It’s just hard,” Alex admitted softly. He looked down and finally seemed to realize how tight his fists were clenched. He stretched out his hands and placed them on his knees, in easy reach of Michael’s fingers in case Michael felt like bridging the gap again. “He’s perfect, you know?” Alex looked up in time to see Michael scrunch his face in disagreement. Alex rolled his eyes, but continued, “On paper, he seems like he’s perfect for me, right? He’s out in the way I always thought I’d be back in high school. He does creative writing. He’s a nerd. He understands bigoted families and knows what it’s like in the military. So why is this so hard? Why isn’t this perfect?” He looked at Michael, pleading with him to answer.

“I don’t think you’ll like my answer Alex,” Michael admitted. He took in a deep breath. 

“Just say it.” Alex’s voice grew quiet, the crackle of the fire covered his whispered, “please.”

“He- that list you just gave me? Those aren’t things you want. They were never what you wanted.”

“That’s not true,” Alex said. “There’s one thing on there that I always liked. He’s just the wrong kind of nerd, I think.” He chanced another look over toward Michael, feeling like he was being obvious again. Except Michael was just looking back at him patiently, predictably missing it. He cleared his throat to continue, “And, the military thing is nice. He gets it because he served too and understands when I can’t talk about work. Not to mention the burden of family expectation. It’s nice to have someone in my life who knows that burden.”

“If that’s important for you, I’m sure you can find other guys who understand that, that you actually like, and can please you in bed. I mean that criteria of guys who salute the flag with a smile.” Michael offered, raising an eyebrow when Alex didn’t immediately try to argue that he liked Forrest. How could he argue the case now, when he had just spent half the afternoon trying to find things about Forrest he did like, things specific only to him, and failed?

“Funny, but it’s not just patriotism. He felt forced into it too,” Alex tried to explain. “Not just that he went in the service because that’s what his family did, but that he had that added-” Alex cut himself off before he finished the sentence and repeated lamely, “He felt forced into it, for all that he ended up feeling better about his service than I did. That’s not a common thing to find.”

He looked over at Michael, only to see him puzzled. He mouthed the words ‘forced’ a few times before he looked over at Alex.

“What do you mean by ‘forced’ Alex? Why would you have that in common, you told me you wanted to go.” Alex looked away from Michael’s face and stared at the fire instead. He couldn’t look at Michael, couldn’t look while he worked through what Alex just said, took their shared experience, and added it all together to get the right answer. “Alex. You told me you wanted to go.”

“I did,” Alex said into the fire. “I did want to go.”

“Then why did you just tell me you were forced?” Michael stood up for the first time since their chat started and moved to squat in front of Alex.

Alex averted his eyes to the ground. “I did want to go,” Alex said into the space between them. “I wanted to go so that you wouldn’t be a target for my dad. I went to learn how to finally win a battle. It’s just that, every battle was to protect you.”

“What did he do?” Michael asked as he reached for Alex’s hands. “Alex, what did Jesse do?”

Alex squeezed his hand. That was answer enough. Michael already knew what Jesse Manes was capable of doing. Alex gave his hands one more squeeze before he said, “As I said, I wanted to go.”

Michael stayed there in front of him. Alex could see the battle on his face, the same as he could see it throughout their entire day, as Alex revealed information and Michael worked out what to leave alone and what to push on. It seemed that this, at least, was a thing Michael would leave for now.

“Okay,” Michael said as he moved back towards his chair. He moved the conversation away from this particularly minefield toward a more familiar one. “The rest of that list. Are those things you actually want? Or are those things you think you should want? Who are you doing this for?”

He opened his mouth to answer when his phone went off. The theme song to National Treasure echoed between them, and he watched Michael register the tune before clapping a hand over his mouth. Alex placed his finger against his mouth before picking up the phone, “Hey.”

The fire crackling wasn’t loud enough to muffle the clear sound of Forrest Long, “Hey baby, I know it’s Sunday, but I miss you!”

Alex frowned a little, and forced his fingers to relax on the phone, “Yeah, it’s Sunday,”. He forced himself to smile politely but couldn’t quite echo the sentiment offered. “I’m still over at Michael’s for our weekly hangout. Did you need something?”

“I didn’t need anything. But, hey how much longer do you think you’ll be?”

This time Michael was the one to frown before turning away from Alex to gather their discarded lemonade glasses. Normally at this time of the night, the old barbecue would be rolled out from behind the Airstream to cook the store-brand hot dogs for dinner. Modest, cheap food that they both enjoyed, mainly because it was something they shared together. 

“Awhile, we haven’t had dinner yet,” Alex replied, staring at Michael’s movements. 

“Great, I can pick up takeout if you want to come over. We can eat and then maybe find something else to do with our mouths-” Forrest enthused brightly.

“No.” The word slipped out without Alex realizing it, but once it did he didn’t take it back. “I’m having dinner with Michael, like we planned.”

“Okay…” There was a moment and then Forrest regrouped, still game, “Then later, after you’re done with Alien Guy, we can-”

“No, that isn’t going to work either.” Alex watched Michael roll out the old grill, and swallowed. The answer was there, and even if Michael never said it, it didn’t change the fact that Alex knew what he had to do. “I think I’m done, actually. With you.” Alex added after a pause. This was not the time to do his ‘vague thing’.

As soon as he said it, the weight came off his chest even as a new anxiety built inside. The legacy of his home life, always lurking around every corner, that he wanted to smooth over any rough edges. But who was he doing that for in the long run. 

The statement caught Forrest off guard, so long that Alex pulled the phone from his ear to check to see if the call was still connected. “Is this about Michael?”

It was. It wasn’t. It was always going to be about something, but it was mainly about Alex. “No, this is about us. About you. It’s just- it’s not working out, okay?”

“Alex, I don’t think you know what you’re saying here-”

“I know exactly what I’m saying. I’m saying we’re done. You know you’re not some sort of gay Yoda, okay? I’ve been out since I was sixteen in this shitty small town, so don’t try and tell me I don’t know what I’m saying or what I want.”

Forrest took a noisy breath on the line, “Did I interrupt your Sunday fuck fest with your ex, is that what’s going on here?” The casual cut of cruelty that was always carefully cloaked in the past was now out in the open.

“You know what, I was trying to be nice about this, but fuck you.” Alex filled his lungs with air, fired up now that the lid was off. He caught Michael watching him with concern as he laid out their dinner. The soft sound of a can popping as Michael placed a cold beer in his hand, and mouthed ‘tell him’. Alex reddened slightly but continued buoyed by the support, “Fuck you and your bad poetry. Fuck you and the fact that you call my dick ‘Captain’. And an extra fuck you for never listening to a single fucking thing I ever said and still insisting on knowing what I fucking want in bed, for telling me how to mourn my bastard of a father.” Alex took a breath. “And fuck you for always making me bottom.”

Both of Michael’s eyebrows shot upward at that reveal, before he mocked a slow clap causing Alex to bite down to smother an inappropriate giggle.

“Goodbye Forrest.” He looked down at his phone again, and ended the call with a decisive punch of his thumb.

“Shit.”

“I just broke up with my boyfriend,” Alex said in a daze. 

“Any regrets?” Michael asked, his face serious as he looked over from the grill. 

For a moment, Alex thought about saying yes, but the regret he felt was wide and all encompassing, it covered the whole length of the relationship. 

“Would it be mean if I said about six-weeks worth of them?” Alex asked as he stared down at his phone. Already his phone was lighting up with texts from Forrest. He opened up his contacts, and hovered over the block function for a moment, before pressing the key to silence the notifications. 

Alex didn’t notice that Michael stayed silent. He looked up from his phone to see Michael standing at the grill, his curls spilled over one eye, but Alex could see there was relief there along with a fragile hope as he watched Alex.

“I don’t think it’s mean,” he said, gaze glued to Alex. “I think you did the right thing Alex.” He ruffled his hair and grinned. “Maybe you got a little harsh there, for a moment. I don’t know what he said to set you off, but I have to assume that he deserved it.”

“He did,” was all he said to Michael. There was little to no point in repeating that ugliness, especially since there was a part of Alex that felt guilty at how perhaps Forrest wasn’t that far from the mark. “But how he reacted just proves I guess maybe you were right? It wasn’t all on me. I guess, I dunno, I was trying so hard that I forgot what the point of being with someone was.”

“And what’s the point of being with someone, Alex?” Michael asked as he left the grill and moved to Alex’s side. Michael gently grabbed the phone from Alex’s hand and placed it on the arm of his chair.

“To not be alone. To not feel alone even when someone is there right at my side.” Alex licked his lips nervously, accepting the dinner plate from Michael, his hand covering Michael’s. “I never felt alone with you, and I guess I thought that was going to be true for anyone? And it’s not.”

Gently Michael pulled back, and coughed a little in reaction, “Me neither.” He threw himself back into his own chair, that was nearly on top of Alex’s. Every Sunday afternoon they started a few feet away in those mismatched folding chairs and every Sunday night it ended with them sitting arm against arm. The draw of cosmic between them. “So I was thinkin’, maybe in a week or so, we do this again, come over here on Sunday, we have lunch, we have dinner, but um this time you bring a spare set of clothes with you?”

“I think that sounds perfect,” Alex said, smile wide on his face. He grabbed his hotdog to take a bite, but he hesitated. “You know, my Tuesdays just got free.” He mentioned casually, still looking at his hotdog. “Maybe we can get dinner or something, you know, before Sunday. Why wait?”

“You’re right. I think we’ve both done enough waiting.”

**Author's Note:**

> the working title for this fic was "Forrest is the Worst" and the working summary was "Michael and Alex are friends. Alex’s boyfriend is bad at sex. Michael and Alex talk about it." and L wouldn't let me keep it.- chex


End file.
